If He Had Died
by A Beautiful Beast
Summary: Warning: Character Death. T for language. If Tony Stark hadn't lived after falling from the portal, how would everyone cope? Chapter 3 now up, featuring Bruce Banner's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

**For Pepperony lovers: Okay, I'm really impressed that you actually clicked on this. Seriously, because this is my giant angst dump. **

**For Pepperony haters: The feeling's mutual.**

**For Pepperony toleraters (AKA 'I dun care'): Ummm, hi . . . (Awkward much)**

**Everyone: Two words: Plot bunnies.**

**Sorry, I just love to torture the charries I love. By the way, this whole thing was written from 1-2:30 in the a.m., so it's a little . . . (how do you say . . .) messy? **

**Disclaimer: Me no own. Me no profit. Me no understand-o why you sue me-o.**

**So without further ado, my (failful) attempt at organized free-writing. (*Facepalm* I don't think anyone would believe me if I said I _wasn't_ trying to make paradoxes, but I really wasn't! I promise!)**

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Steve swallowed, trying to comprehend what had just happened. There were a few things he knew for sure, besides the fact that he had just witnessed one of the most out-of-character acts ever.

1. Manhattan was safe.

2. Manhattan was also in ruins.

But the third thing hit him with a pang in the chest, taking the breath out of the already-winded man.

3. Tony Stark was dead.

Sure, he may not have liked the guy, but he certainly didn't want him dead. Most certainly didn't want him lying on the ground, his . . . whatever the metal thing in his chest was not glowing, stone cold dead.

"Tony? Tony Stark, where are you?" The voice called through the ruins, sounding annoyed but with an edge of anticipation to it. For a moment, Steve wondered who the hell would be here until he remembered something.

Stark had a girlfriend.

"He's . . ." Steve started, but faltered, looking down at the battered man lying on the ground in front of him. "He's over here."

Footsteps came closer and closer, until he could see a strawberry-blonde haired woman walking towards him.

"Anthony Edward Stark!" She exclaimed as she neared them, not noticing the mournful state the Avengers were in. "I will not tolerate this any longer! You can't just fly a nuke into a random portal, to leave me wondering whether or not you'll be okay! I swear, you do that again and I'll-" She broke off as she noticed the Ironman laying on the pavement for the first time.

"Tony?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper now, but Steve heard it. He heard the desperation in her voice as she kicked off her heels and ran barefoot across the sharp glass, rocks, and robot boddies that littered the ground. "Tony?" Her voice was stronger now, but even more pain-filled.

She knelt beside him, and took his hand in hers. "You're going to be okay, but only if you wake up! Wake up! Please, just _wake up_!" She screeched, her voice rising to a wail. "You can't die! You're Ironman, for God's sake! You told me you'd come back, you promised. You promised . . ." She trailed off, and tried unsuccessfully to hold back a sob.

After suppressing the urge to break down and cry himself, Steve had remembered her name: Virginia 'Pepper' Potts. Pepper was sobbing uncontrollably, salty tears cascading down her face. Steve would've liked to comfort her, but didn't. He knew better than to intrude on this, whatever 'this' was.

But after five extremely awkward minutes of glances at one another, all of the Avengers were feeling that someone should take her away. Somehow, they came to an agreement. Steve rose from where he was sitting, a fair distance away from Pepper, and walked over to the aforementioned woman.

"No, no, no . . ." She was whispering, Slowly shaking her head. "All my fault . . . All my friggin' fault . . ." Another tear slipped down her cheek.

Steve gently laid a hand on her shoulder, and Pepper flinched.

"Sorry." He muttered. She shook her head.

"It's fine." He voice was hoarse, but firm. She had a 'don't mess with me, lest I unleash my wrath down upon you' kind of look on her face, but it was an empty threat right now.

"Come on," Steve said, offering his hand to her. "They'll take care of . . . everything." He nodded towards the other Avengers, who were all having a heated discussion with one another.

For a moment, Pepper looked unsure, but then swallowed and murmured a small "okay."

And that was all she said until dinner came around, which if you're wondering, was seven hours later.

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**A/N: Blarrgh! Why am I even posting this? Oh well, onto part two. Takes place during dinner that same night.**

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When Steve entered Pepper's room, he found her sitting on her bed, her hands wrung in her lap, murmuring words only she could understand.

"You okay?" He asked, and her head snapped up, clearly not knowing of his arrival.

"Do I look okay?" She snapped, her eyes ablaze with a cold fury. When she saw the surprised look on Steve's face her gaze immediately softened, and her words became ones of apology.

"Sorry . . . I just . . . just . . . well, you know." She muttered, still staring at her hands like they had the power to bring Tony back.

"No, it was a stupid question. Of course you aren't alright." Steve then remembered his reason for coming into her room. "Umm, we're having pizza in the living room, if you want to join us. We've got cheese, onion, pepperoni," she stiffened, but didn't speak. "Anchovy, but no one really like anchovies anyways . . ." he realized he was rambling a little too late. "So uh," Steve reached up to scratch the back of his neck. "If you're hungry, we have food."

"Alright, thanks." Pepper smiled, but it looked forced. Steve quietly left her to her musings, only to hear her sobbing again as soon as he shut the door.

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**A/N: This part was written at about 2 a.m., and I really don't want to post it, (Then why am I posting it?) but there's a certain someone staring over my shoulder to make sure that I do post this. I am very fearful of flames right now. Why? Because it has a stupid idea. Read, and you'll see what I mean. Takes place about a day after the last part.**

* * *

Steve had been checking out a social networking site that Bruce been telling him about. It was called Facebook, a weird name for something that didn't have anything to do with books, Steve had thought.

Anyways, he had been looking through some of the different pages on Facebook when he found one entitled Pepperony. He'd clicked on it, not really expecting anything but a pepperoni/misspelling fanclub, when he saw the profile picture. It was a beautiful picture, excellent quality, but what made it so beautiful was the people in it. Tony Stark and Pepper Potts were kissing, holding one another so tightly as if the world might collapse if they let go. Now, a normal person wouldn't have noticed the look in their eyes, but Steve did. It was the same look Peggy had had in her eyes as she looked up at him, the same look he had in his eyes as he gazed back down at her.

It was love.

There was a certain tenderness in Stark's eyes that Steve had never seen before, and he had never thought the other man to be able to wear a look of such genuine adoration.

Steve clicked through the photos without much difficulty, (only closing his browser 3 times) and found that there really was another side to Tony Stark. A side that didn't flirt with girls besides his girlfriend, didn't make sarcastic quips in answer to every question, a side that actually had some humility.

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**A/N: *Facepalm* Okay, okay, don't kill me because that was _just_ as weird for you as it was for me.**

**Okay, I'm done. ****This was originally meant just for me to get this plot bunny out of my head, but I guess I could flesh a plot out of this, if you_ insist. _(And leave a review . . .) **

**If you're wondering, that was 1 101 words. (Excluding A/N's)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow . . . guys, you're amazing! I had so many favourites I was blown away, and decided to continue this. I'm truly sorry that I didn't get this up sooner, but my life has been a bit crazy. My family life wasn't going so well, my social life was heading down a never-ending slope, and basically I felt like crap. But enough with my annyoing problems, onto the part that the readers actually care about: the story. **

**This part is about Natasha's views on Tony's death, and flaming balls of fire it was hard to write! I'm not satisfied with the ending really, but I re-wrote it at least 5 times at that was the best one so I picked it. **

**Disclaimer: Sadly, none of this stuff belongs to me. Of course, if you wanted to get me an early birthday present, I wouldn't say no . . .**

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Being the only other woman on the team, Natasha felt like it was her duty to comfort Pepper. Now that in itself was mind-blowing because Natasha Romanoff did not do comfort. She was a spy, an assassin, trained to kill. So when she approached Pepper a day later, she went in expecting the worst and hoping for the best.

"Pepper?" She called softly to the woman sitting on the edge of her bed. The strawberry-blonde haired woman had a blank, lost look on her face, as if she was a lifeless corpse.

Natasha reached out and touched her on the arm, if only to check that she was still living. What she didn't expect was for Pepper to grab her arm and twist it behind her back in response.

"Woah, calm down, it's just me." Natasha soothed, trying to get the grip on her arm to loosen. Pepper may not have had any training, but damn her grip was tight!

"Sorry" She released her vice-like grip on Natasha, looking guiltily at the floor. "It's just a-"

"Reaction." The spy finished, nodding her head in understanding. "I know. Besides, I could've taken you even with my arm behind my back." And for the first time since New York, Pepper smiled. No teeth were showing, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"So, did you . . . want something?" The CEO asked the Black Widow.

Natasha took a breath before answering. This wasn't really what she wanted to do, but . . .

"I wanted you to know that if you ever needed someone to, uh, to talk to, you can come to me." Stuttering when she was in an awkward situation was not the norm for the Black Widow, but then again, this week hadn't exactly been normal. Internally she cringed while waiting for an answer.

Pepper's smile slowly faded, and her eyes began to slightly mist over. "Thank you," she whispered, seeming to age years in only a few moments. She glanced down at the floor, obviously trying to hide her tears. She glanced up at her again, not seeming to care about the tear that slipped down her cheek. "Truly. Thank you."

The crying woman then turned to grab for one of the tissues on her nightstand to dab her eyes with.

When she rotated back to speak again, the Black Widow was long gone.

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**A/N: This was the part I re-wrote 5 times, and then blended some of the writing together. I'm just guessing that Tony has a ginormous gym somewhere in the Tower.**

* * *

Natasha herself wasn't really sure how to feel about Tony's death. She sure as hell wasn't happy about it, but she wasn't going to hang her head and try not to talk to anyone, (like Pepper) or spend the whole day in Tony's lab, trying to keep the Other Guy under control, (like Bruce) and most definitely wasn't going to drink an entire bottle of brandy just to forget for a few hours (like Clint).

Instead, she followed the Captain America's example and headed to the gym to punch a few bags off their chains.

The first thing she noticed when she entered the room was Steve's surprised look. He wouldn't be good at poker, Natasha thought with a slight smirk. His face would give away everything.

"What? Can't a woman come to a gym without being stared at?" He just stared more. Typical Steve.

"N-No I just . . . I've never seen you so . . . Casual." He finished lamely, but the Black Widow noticed he had a point. She was wearing a plain grey tank top, with a pair of matching black yoga pants. Not something she'd usually wear, but she had left her suitcase on the hovercraft and had to borrow some of Peppers clothes.

She shrugged and hung up a red punching bag beside his.

* * *

**A/N: Yep, final part.I really like how the Steve/Natasha interaction came out here, and I hope you do too. Oh, and I adore the last line in this part.**

* * *

Right, left, right, left! She punched without mercy, but still left the bag on it's hook.

Stupid Tony, Natasha thought, jabbing the bag forcefully. Had to go and get himself killed! She punched once last time and watched as the bag leaped off it's hook and smacked into the wall in front of her, leaving a burning satisfaction in her belly.

Natasha didn't grieve like a normal person. And although she was anything but normal, it still wasn't her thing to hide in her room with a box of tissues and watch Desperate Housewives.

So as she hung up another heavy bag, and proceeded to knock it off within seconds, Steve stopped to stare at her, and be bold enough to say something about it.

"I almost forgot that you had emotions." He murmured, looking unaware that he was thinking aloud. When she shot him a glare, he blushed and realized what he had said.

"I uh, just meant that . . . y'know because you just usually seem, um, so . . . cold?" He said as if guessing the answer on a game show. Natasha did not change her expression, just waited for him to continue.

"And sometimes you just act like you don't care, and it doesn't really . . . uh, matter. B-but when I was, um, looking at you," he blushed slightly, as if admitting he had stolen Clint's porn stash. "Your eyes . . . they were so . . . so . . . full. Of life and emotion and . . ." He trailed off yet again, looking even more embarrassed.

Natasha merely blinked at him, allowing the Captain's words to sink in. She hated to admit it, but he was right in a sense. She didn't like to let anyone in, didn't like to have emotional attachments. It kept her-and the people around her-safe.

But even though she hadn't cared much for the self-proclaimed billionaire-genius-playboy-phillanthropist, he had somehow worked his way into her heart. They had never really gotten along, (but then again, not many people got along with Natasha Romanoff) but she did understand him better than he thought. He had never told the Avengers about his time in Afghanistan, and it hadn't been on his public file, but the Black Widow had spoken to Pepper a few times about why Tony was so damn paranoid, and the CEO had-for lack of a better term-spilled the beans.

Natasha hadn't been sympathetic, because A, she knew Tony didn't want sympathy, and B, she wasn't the person to go and offer her sympathies even if he had requested them. But she had understood a little more thouroughly why he was so jumpy, and why the hell he didn't have a bathtub in the 93-floor tower.

The spy was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she barely noticed that Steve was trying to apologize. (Though he was stuttering like he had a speech impediment.)

". . . And I didn't mean it like that because it came out wrong and that wasn't what I meant to say and I'm sorry because I'm such an idiot and-" He was rambling, but the Black Widow waved it off.

"It doesn't matter. I get what you mean when you say I'm emotionless." The Super Soldier had a 'you're really not going to kill me because I said you're a cold-hearted demon with no emotion whatsoever? Are you feeling alright?' Sort of look on his face, and as Natasha picked up her water bottle and headed out, she called back:

"Oh, and Steve? Do yourself a favor and never bluff in poker. Actually, don't even play poker, you'd lose your last coin."

Then she left, leaving a dumbfounded Captain America in her wake.

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**(1 168) words, excluding A/N's) **

**_"Instead, she followed the Captain America's example and headed to the gym to punch a few bags off their chains."_ -That line sounded really dirty to me. Anyone else? **

**Oh, and I originally meant for this to be focused on Pepper's reaction to Tony's death, but I think this will mainly feature everyone. **

**Again, I apologize for the huge wait for an update. I can't give you an exact time, but it won't take longer than a month. (*Facepalm*) But if you want another update,_ leave a review!_ Even if you aren't a member, you can still leave one. **

**No excuses, so click that button and make my day!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I love you all. **

**When I got back from my cabin this morning and checked my email, there were 3 alert messages, 3 favourites, and a review! Do you know how happy that makes me? :D Thanks!**

**That was a quicker update than the last, right? I apologise in advance if the next one takes longer.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, duh.**

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To say Bruce Banner was furious was an understatement. He was so mad it drove him to distraction, nearly setting off an explosion in the process.

"How could he?" He asked aloud while working on his project. _"How could he?"_ Bruce could feel the Other Guy close to the surface, and pushed his anger downwards. He hadn't 'hulked out' yet, but there had been a few close calls.

It was selfish of him, but the doctor was disappointed that he had lost the only person on the face of the Earth who wasn't scared of him. The void that Tony had seemed to fill was even more expansive now, threatening to drag Bruce down into the depths of depression.

But he stayed above the chasm, working on the edge. One slight gust of wind could knock him down. But he liked it that way, liked the danger he faced daily.

He knew he must've looked like a madman to anyone watching the security cameras; wild eyes, working fervently on a project no one else knew about. But the only one watching the cameras was Jarvis, and Bruce was sure that he would've seen a lot of crazy things in his existence, being Tony Stark's AI.

To say Bruce Banner didn't know what he was doing was an understatement. He had no fucking clue what half the stuff he was using even did, nevermind what using them did to his project. Tony really_ had_ invented some wacky stuff in his time down at the lab. But Bruce knew that there was some way for this to work, and he had to finish it before the funeral.

When was the funeral? _Four days_.

He only had four days for his machine to work. That was a little over half of a week.

He swore he would finish it in time, or die trying.

Tony was worth that. The only person who wasn't afraid of him had died for the sake of the people, and Bruce would die for Tony. He was sure that the 'Jolly Green Giant' (as Tony had called him) would agree that Tony was well worth it.

So he worked, and worked, and worked. Nobody came to check on him, not even Pepper. But Bruce didn't blame her. He didn't blame anyone. Well, anyone other than himself. But he was always blaming himself for something, so he was used to it. Used to the heavy weight set upon his shoulders for all eternity, or at least until he died.

He smiled when his project began to glow, emanating an unearthly blue light not unlike that of Tony Stark's arc reactor. This had to work, Bruce wouldn't accept anything less. If it didn't work, nothing would.

What was his project? Simple. It was a reviver, made especially for people with arc reactors in their chests. Namely Tony. If he used the reviver like a defibrillator, it should send an electrical current into his body and restart his heart. If you could call the arc reactor a heart.

There was a chance that nothing would happen, that all of the doctor's work was for nothing. He had to try, though. he couldn't just give up on the Iron Man. Unlike everyone else on the team, Tony had built his way into SHEILD. Natasha and Clint had been trained, but Tony didn't get any training whatsoever. No magical hammer, no super-soldier serum, just materials and a dream.

Even if you hated the guy, Bruce thought. You'd have to give him credit for building all of those suits.

Bruce rested his head on one of the tables scattered across the room. He was so tired, so . . . exhausted. Would it be okay if he just rested here for a moment? _Just a few seconds, and then I'll get right back to work,_ he promised himself.

He hadn't slept in three days, hadn't rested or eaten. Every once in a while, Jarvis would remind him that eating kept him awake for longer, and was necessary to human survival, but the doctor ignored him.

It is so peaceful right here, he thought. So calm, and quiet. Surely it would be okay if I just took a ten-minute nap? To this his body agreed. So he let himself drift, higher up into the clouds, forgetting about everything that had happened in the past week. Sleep covered him like a thick blanket, and he welcomed it.

* * *

"M'ter B'nn'r?" A voice called through the haze, lifting the blanket off of him. "Master Banner?" It called again, and something prodded him in the side.

He gave a jolt of surprise, and flung his head up. "Mmmf?" When he saw no one, he put his head back down on the table.

"Master Banner?" The eerily robotic voice tried again. The voice sounded oddly monotone, perhaps even sad.

Bruce recognized the voice as Jarvis', and, irritated at being awoken, snapped, "what?"

"You instructed me to wake you exactly thirty minutes after you fell asleep. It has been thirty minutes." The AI responded, turning the lights a little higher.

Bruce faintly remembered what Jarvis was describing. When he first came into the lab, he knew he would be working on something for a long period of time. He hadn't thought of making the reviver yet. But somehow, he had this . . . feeling. So he told Jarvis to wake him thirty minutes after he fell asleep; if he even did.

Bruce sighed, he wanted, no, _needed_ sleep. But he needed to finish the reviver. Sleep could wait, he decided. Tony couldn't.

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**Only 935 words that time. Ugh. Oh well. **

**I apologize for not responding to your reviews; life is busy, and usually without internet. **

**Notice: I will be popping back and forth to my cabin (which has no internet) every once in a while. This will affect my updates. The good news is that I will bring my iPod and notepad along so that I can work on this story.**

**Reviews are always amazing, and encourage me to write more. They give me a little extra 'oomph', if you know what I mean.**


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